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ASSASSINATION, 



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The Closing Scene. 



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fl A Tragedy of the Great Rebellion, 



In Five Acts. 



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SAN JOSE, CAL. P 

McNEIL BROS., Book and Job Printers, 872 Fii=>t Street. 



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DEDICATION, 



It is with feelings of deep gratitude that I dedicate the 
follo^^fing Drama to the memory of the noble dead who bat- 
tled for the Union, both on land and sea; and with senti- 
ments of love and affection for their surviving comrades, 
but more particularly to my comrades of Phil Sheridan Post, 

No. 7, G. A. R. 

The Author, 

De Witt C. Vestal. 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1879, by De Witt C. Vestal, in 
the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



ASSASSINATION, 



OK 



The Closing Scene 



A Tragedy of the Great Rebellion, 



In Five Acts. 



/ 






/RIG 




SAN JOSE, CAL. 

MoNEIL BROS., Book and Job Printers, 372 First Street. 



/^3 3 /l.'J 



Dramatis Persons. 



Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States. 

William H. Seward, .----.-. Secretary of State. 

Edwin M. Stanton, - - - - Secretary of War. 

Ulysses S. Grant, General Commanding U. S. Armies. 

Generals Meade, Hancock, Weitzel, and other Generals of the United States Army. 
Union Soldiers, Black Union Soldiers, Spirits, Citizens, Attendant Messengers, Etc. 

Jefferson Davis, .,.--- President of the Confederate States. 

Private Secretary to Jefferson Davis. 

Judah p. Benjamin, Secretary of War, C. S. A. 

Robert E. Lee, - - General Commanding C. S. A. 

Pomp, Body Servant to Jeff. Davis. 

Assassins, Soldiers, Attendants, Messengers, Etc. 

Mrs. Lincoln, Wife of Abraham Lincoln 

Mrs. Davis, Wife of Jefferson Davis 

And Attendants. 



ASSASSINATION, 



-:0R; 



TSEE OXiOSIlSTG^ SCEDSTE 



-:OF THE:- 



GREAT REBELLION 



SCENE 1. Washington — President's Mansion. 
Lincoln, alone. 
Lincoln. For four years, — ^long, dark, weary years, — the weight of 
a continent has rested on my head. I have toiled to cement the shat- 
tered fragments of my distracted country, and restore peace and concord 
among my fellow citizens. I have resisted usurpation and tyranny, and 
with my brave and patriotic armies met mad rebellion at every point. 
Now victory is hovering o'er our triumphant flag. The God of justice 
and of battles favors our cause. The flood of precious blood that has 
dyed the land through this mighty war is ebbing back to its fountain. 
O, how my full heart beats with joy at this sweet prospect of peace. 
Ah, sweet peace,— with a nation disenthralled! How the spirits of our 
heroic sires smile a benediction upon us. The great Washington wel- 
comes me as a younger brother, and Douglas cries, "Well done, good 
and faithful servant." .If I have done well; if our armies have fought 
bravely and stormed the gates of death ; if my beloved countrymen of 
the North and West have been loyal and true, all the praise be to thee, 
O God ! Thou who doest all things well, and boldest the destiny of na- 
tions and of men in the hollow of Thy hand, thanks be to Tliee ! Thou 
hast saved my country from bloody destruction and made her free. 0, 
Freedom's soil should all be free ! The future looks bright, and I am 
happy in this glowing dawn of peace. And yet a sense of foreboding 
ill hangs upon my soul. A shade of coming evil enfolds my weary 
heart. I know not why, for honestly 1 have dealt toward God and Man. 

But be thou free, my native land ; 

Content I'll be to fall or stand. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



Enter Secretary Seward. 

Lin. Ah ! Good morning, Mr. Secretary. 
Sew, And how is your Excellency to-day? 
Lin. The march of Sherman down to the Sea; 

And the problem solved by his victory ; 
Breaking with his right arm the shell 
That held Rebellion, makes me feel well. 
Sew. 0, 'twas a fearful march even down to the sea. 
Lin. 0, Cruelty, thou art the shameless pride of war! But how does 
my good Secretary stand the shock, the labor and the jar of troublous 
affairs, at home and afar? 
Sew. Well. 

Lin. I am glad it is so. I need your counsel, your wisdom, now. 
How will the news of our victorious arms rest on the jealous hearts of 
European nations? Our own and the interests of England are so inter- 
woven that surely she will not further liindrance lay. And France be- 
holds Mexico with dismay. 

Sew. "I reckon," as a Yankee should. 

Napoleon stands with shivering blood ; 
While Maximilian's speedy fall 
Will snatch the brand from the trembling hall 
Where old dusky Montezumas reigned. 
Lin. This be our watchword and our cry — Americans, rule thou 
America! The "Monroe Doctrine," in all its essential principles, is the 
only line of policy for us, especially when a neighboring Kepublic is 
threatened with war,— the Republic weak and the kingly power strong. 
Sew. While Freedom to all climes belong. 

Sweet Liberty, be thou our song. 

Entei' a Messenger. 

Messenger. The Secretary of War desires to speak with your Excel- 
lency. He bade me say, he anxious waits. 
Lin. Let him come. 

Exit Messenger. Enter Stanton. 

Stanton. Mr. President, I am much pleased to see you looking so 
cheerful to-day. But forgive my haste ; I have overwhelming evidence 
that there is a damning plot maturing to take your life. In fact I felt 
most anxious for your safety, and could not rest till I saw you here. O, 
a fearful doom should be the just reward of the traitor heart that could 
conceive so foul a crime. Slay ! Assassinate you ? They know not what 
they do. Slay their friend? Consummate that, and 'twill be the knell, 
the closing infamy to slavery born. 0, they can not. It must be false. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



Lin. What murderous scheme is this, that so o'erwhehns my faithful 
friend? Have you any reliable clew to unveil this startling mystery? 
To have been slain in Baltimore before my first inaugural might have 
been expected. But now the minds of men are more calm. Let us 
banish the thought. 

Stan. Mysterious letters have been intercepted that make me tremble 
for yoi;r safety. Who the guilty parties are I know not. Our Chief of 
Police and detectives keen are on the scent. I hope all may yet end 
well. Here the letters are. 

Hands Letters to Lincoln. 
Read and judge; tlien take such measures as seems to you best, hold- 
ing the high, exalted station that you do. 

Lin. I ^vill guard well my life, and look up to heaven in every 
perilous hour. 

Elxeunt. 

SCENE 2. A Street in Washington. 
Enter Assassins. 

1st Assassin. Long have I watched the opportunity to strike the head 
of th's Northern hydra. 

Sd Ass'n. I fear in my soul the serpent has too many heads to be 
killed at a single blow. 

1st Ass' 71. I could have shot him on the floor of the inaugural plat- 
form had not my conscience said "beware I" 

2d Ass'n. Of yourself — I'll stake a treat on that ; one to drown all 
conscience, too. 

1st Ass'n. You know me not. I care not for my hateful life. But 
stand aside — too many eyes rest on us here. 

lltey enter an alcove. 

2d Ass'n. Ha, ha 1 By Heavens, it seems to me that hateful life is 
precious still to thee. 

2st Ass'n. You are too rash in this affair. We must be secret as the 
grave. I tell you. Payne, you know me not. I hate to behold men 
happy, for I am not. I be happy ? Ha, ha ! At best I am onl}' an in- 
truder on this sickly world around me. Born without a namfe; a foul 
blot that I am; a living reproach to my family — the infamy of my 
father and my mother's shame — I tell you life is nothing. Wealth, ease, 
love is nothing, nothing. I long to dissolve away and be nothing to all 
below. 

But let me sting tlie thing I hate, — 
The creature man, the Northern Ape. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



If Lincoln falls beneath my hand, my name will be as imperishable as 
that of Brutus. 0, if it should be as infamous! 

Would fate not then o'erleap its sweets, 
And be the hell it thus repeats? 

2d Ass'n. No act is base that saves the South. 
1st Ass'n. I care not; I'll do the deed. 

2d Asshi. And spoken as the devil speaks. It seems to me 'twere 
best to say, I'll try. 

1st Ass'n. 0, never doubt me. The powers of night now are mine. 
But time speeds, and Richmond is doomed if we do not set her ramparts 
and her portals free. 

Then away ! Fast is speeding on the day ; 
And we must haste and act a hellish play. 

Exeunt. 

SCENE III. 

A Spirit Rises and Sings. 
Spirit. Mortal, lost — adieu ! adieu ! 

You thirst for blood, — the knife; — 
The ball is winged for you, 

A life, a noble life, 
Robbed in peace, — not in strife, — 

Will damn thy spirit true. 

Otlier Spirits Rise. 
Spirits Sing. Mortal, lost — adieu ! adieu ! 

The deed is quickly done; — 
Then remorse will be thy due, 

Thou an accursed one; 
With none beneath the sun 

To pity or rescue. 

Mortal, lost — farewell ! farewell ! 

Until we meet again ; 
You feel the fatal sjjell, 

A dark, a demon cliain ! 
Feel thou eternal pain, 

And there, and there is hell. 

Spirits Vanish. 
1st Spirit Sings. Mortal, lost — adieu ! adieu ! 

You thirst for blood, — the knife; — 
The ball is winged for you, 

A life, a noble life. 
Robbed in peace, — not in strife, — 
Will damn thy spirit true. 

Spirit Vanishe.1. 
[Tableau. ] 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



SCENE I. Richmond — A Hall in the Presidential Mansion — Presi- 
dent Davis and Mrs. Davis seated at Dining Table — Servant in 
Waiting, Etc. — Time, Evening. 

Mrs. Davis. Why does not my dear husband eat ? 

Davis. Love, I can not eat ; I have lost my appetite. Boy, begone. 

To Servant. 

Pomp. (Aside. ) Gorry, Massa Davis, its 'nuff to take your appetite 
— so tinks dis chile. Going. 

Mrs. Davis. I would not let affairs of State so heavy rest against my 
heart. The chivalrous South will vindicate her name and wrongs, and 
rise among Europe's proud towering realms. Ah, then will we be happy, 
all separate from the vulgar herd. 0, these vile Republics — how I hate 
the name! Where the rabble throng, each and all sovereign power 
claim. Where workmen stand clammoring loud for seats beside e'en 
royalty — how insufferably, low and vile ! Cheer up, my love ; on such 
folly smile. I am bound to thee forever. 'Tis sweet to share thy 
destiny. 

Davis. Yes, yes, I doubt you not, my love. But oh, your love for 
me can ne'er the falling South redeem. A true woman's heart will 
suffering do all for man — more than he could ask. But love, an hour 
from thee I beg, and would not be disturbed. 

Mt's. Davis. (Ketiring. ) Until then, my husband, adieu. 

Exeunt. 

Davis. (Alone. ) How long shall my ambition be thwarted, and these 
fierce yoemen of the North stand up between me and the goal of my 
hopes. I have sacrificed every principle of honor toward my native 
country, and plotted against her peace and her constitution. My life 
has been spent laying the foundation for her division. The spirit of the 
great Calhoun has guided me on until I find myself plunged into fierce, 
remorseless and bloody war. The coil of avenging justice tightens 
around me. My armies are decimated ; my Generals slain or fret in 
base captivity ; my people, my brave chivalry, begin to long for peace. 
Even under dictation of the tyrant, the bloody-minded Lincoln, England 
stands aloof, and France makes fair promises but fulfills them not. 
The siege guns of Grant are now thundering around my Capitol. 

Guns heard in the distance. 

Hark ! That is the voice of doom to me. The last avenue of escape 
will soon be shut, and I will be caged like a felon in his cell. But to 
whom, or where, shall I fly? To Heaven? I dare not pierce the fatal 
veil beyond ! 0, my coward heart ! Why quake at pale death ? I have 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



one hope I 0, such a hope. Gods ! Will not your wrath consume me 
if I yield to this last damned hope ? 0, 'twill sink my soul ; and yet I 
would the deed were done. The lowering elements conspire against me, 
and hell lets loose all her horrors accumulated on my head. 0, Ambi- 
tion I I have traced thy steps in the march of Catiline ; like him, for 
thee I fall. 0, crime, I have seen thy reward in the traitor Arnold; 
and alas, since I too have unsuccessful been, eclipsed will be his name 
by me: his infamy I will swallow up, and hateful immortality will 
sound my fame through coming time and leave me, 0, God, a traitor 
scorned ! I must be calm. Fate yet may loose successful winds to waft 
me o'er a sea of rest. If not, farewell hope ! Ambition, thou false 
mocking, devil, farewell ! Adieu, adieu, my native land, and Heaven 
pour thy hot wrath out upon upon me. 



SCENE II. A Street in Richmond, Time, Twilight. — Enter Negroes, 
Conversing. 

1st Negro. I tells you, nigger, 'tis sartin dis Fedracy is gwine to 
cave. 

2d Negro. Den what's to be dun wif us chile? 

1st Negro. I dun no. 

3d Negro. I tells you what. Sambo. 

All. Yah, yah ! (Laughing derisively). Go way ! 

Sd Negro. No, gorry mitey, stop dat noise ! I'se gwine to tell you 
what will den be dun. 

1st Negro. Dat darkey (pointing at No. 3) is gwine to make a speech. 

All. Hurrah, hurrah, de speech, de speech! 

3d Negro. You cuUud pussons, stop dat noise. When dem dar Yan- 
kees cum, dey bring de mancipating proclamation dat sets de niggers 
free. Bress de Lord. 

De banjo den from day to day. 
We'll ring while we uns will be gay ; 
And de white folks ob dis country, 
O dey will help to make de hay. 

They all Laugh, etc. 
A II. A song, a song, Sambo, a song. 

Sambo. I want all you cullud folks to jnie in dis here song. 
All. All right. Sambo. 

A II Sing. We have dug de sweet, sweet tater. 

We have cut de oak tree yonder ; 
We have picked de snow white cotton, 
And we've raised de corn an fodder. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene, 



0, we have toiled for de white folks, 
And some ob dem we did lub so I 
Now de time has cum for nigger, 
He has heard de Proclamation; 
Hurrah, hurrah, de Proclamation. 

Chorus. Yah, yah, de white folks I 
Yah, yah, de nigger I 
Yah, yah, de white folks. 
Will dance de piggen figger. 

Now de white folks dey will jine us. 
And now we boff will raise de tater ; 
We will rome de swamps togedder. 
We will raise de com an fodder. » 
We will toil an bless de sunlight, 
And de moon will rise with laughter ; 
Xo more de bloodhound scare de nigger. 
He has heard de Proclamation ; 
Hurrah, hurrah, de proclamation. 

Chorus. Yah, yah, de white folks, etc. 

Chins sound in the distance. 

3d Negro. Don't you hear dat? Dat is de voice ob freedom to de 
cuUud population. 

Ist Negro. Yah, ha I And de debbles to de white uns. Of dis ole 
Virginny country dat's sartiu, so it is. 

3d Negro. I say, Sambo, dar is no white folks round dis pop, an now 

lets all us darkeys jine in a Linkum song, while we listen to de music 

ob dem instruments ob destruction. 

Guns sound in the distance. 

1st Negro, ^^^lat you hab, Sambo? 

2d Negro. Dat one bout Bablum, what we heard dem Yankees sing- 
ing ober dar while dey rested in de trenches. 

All. Yah, ha, yah: Dat's sweeter dan sweet tater, so it is. 

Ist Negro. Dat's de song ; for I specs dis yer town's wot de mean 
bout dat dar Bablum. 

3d Negro. 0, go way ! Dat dar town is way oil' in de Jerusalem 
countrj. 

1st Negro. Don't make no ditfreuce where it are. Leastwise it hits 
us niggers in de riglit spot ; as de possum said when he scrouged inter 
his hole. 

3d Netgro. Bress de Lord ! I likes dat reflfrence in partickeler to we 
uns whar wee's gwine to shot)t, and den occupy de land. 



10 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



All. Hurrah, hurrah! de song, de song! 
All Siny, with Banjo Accompaniment, — 

BABYLON IS FALLEN. 



Chorus. 



Chorus. 



Chorus. 



Chorus. 



Chorus. 



Don't yoH see de black clouds risin' ober yonder. 

Wliar de Massa's ole plantation am? 
Nebber you be frightened — dem is only darkeys, 

Come to jine an' light for Uncle Sam. 

Look out dar, now ! We's a gwine to shoot ! 

Look out dar — don't you understand ? 
Babylon is fallen ! Babylon is fallen ! 

And we's a gwine to occupy de land. 

Don't you see de lightnin' flashin in de cane-brake, 

Like as if we gwine to hab a storm? 
No ! you is mistaken — 'tis de darkey's baynets, 

An' de buttons on dar uniform. 
Look out dar, now ! We's a gwine to shoot ! Etc. 

Way up in de cornfield, whar you hear de tunder, 

Dat is our ole forty-pounder gun : 
When de shells are missin, den we load wid punkins. 

All de same to make de cowards run. 
Look out dar, now ! We's a gwine to shoot, Etc. 

Massa was de Kernel in de rebel army, 

Ebber sence he went an run aw- ay ; 
But his lubly darkeys, dey has been a watchin', 

An' dey take him pris'ner tudder day. 
Look out dar, now I We's a gwine to shoot, Etc. 

We will be de massa, he will be de sarvant, — 

Try him how he like it for a spell ; 
So we crack de butt'nuts, so we take de Kernel, 

So de cannon carry back de shell. 
Look out dar, now ! We's a gwine to shoot. Etc. 

Retire, i-epeating Chorus. 



SCENE III. Hall in Daws' Mansion — Black Servant, Pomp, in 
Waiting — Enter Private Secretary. 

Jeff. Davis, Seated. 
Davis. Well, how now? What's the news? 
Secretain/. Sad news. 

Davis. Have dispatches been received ? Go, boy ! 
Pomp. Yes, Massa Davis, (aside) an' I specs your gwine, too, purty 
soon. Retires, laughing. 

Set. Yes, Sir, they have. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 11 

Davis. If letters have been received by my messenger from the 
Yankee Capitol at Washington, or from Savannah, open them immedi- 
ately. 

Sec. (Opens letter and reads. ) Savannah has fallen. 

Davis. (Interrupting.) 0, my God! I knew it must be so. The 
fiend and false marauder, Sherman, regarding neither the wrath of God 
nor the noble South, makes himself more detestable than the lesser 
beast, Butler. He dares to burn our peaceful towns ; ravage our coun- 
try ; rob us of our property and emancipate our lawful slaves through 
all Georgia. If Sherman is not checked, Charleston must fall; the 
Carolinas will be ravished from our grasp ; and then farewell, farewell 
to fame, and my more loved, sweet, sunny South. 

(Sec. reads. ) The particulars of the fall of Savannah I sent you in 
a former dispatch. 

Davis. (Interrupting) It must then have miscarried. 

Sec. (Reads.) Since then the Northern horde, under the Lincoln 
slave, Sherman, has ruthlessly marched to the sea; and now Charleston 
is in flames. 

Davis. 0, God ! It is too much to bear ! Nay, (stops Secretary impa- 
tiently ), no more ! Are there letters from Washington? 

Sec. There are, your Excellency. 

(Reads). To my noble chief, the President of the Confederate States 
of America: Sir — When I last saw you in Richmond, and unlocked 
the hot chambers of my soul, and drew forth the plan of the secret 
mission that was nearest both our hearts, — 

Davis. (Snatching the paper). You may retire, Sir. When I desire 
your presence I will ring. 

Seci'etary. (Aside.) So, ho! Such secresys of state will lead to 
murder, and I fear the devil's refulgent gate. Exit. 

Davis. Ha, ha ! I would not have more than one pair of eyes draw 
out the contents of this bloody afiair. (Reads.) Of my secret 
mission nearest both our hearts, you did not unlock the shadowy mys- 
teries of your soul to me, and say as much as — do it. Let blood be 
spilt for blood, — and yet methought I read in the unlettered volume of 
your face — 0, that He were dead! 0, that some deadly ball were 
speeding through his ruthless brain. 'Ere you look on this, Fate will 

have spoken her decree. On the night of there will be a play — 

a simple play— at Theatre. Our enemy will be there to behold 

his "Country Cousin;" and by my soul he will find one who will cling 
to him closer than a brother. The magazine is fired ; soon the towering 
edifice that held all nations in awe, and o'ertopped you as much as to 
say— I am Chimborazo, you a mole-hill in Illinois— will be left a frag- 
ment and a ruin. -4 loud Ringing. 



12 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 

Enter Pomp — Boivs Loiv. 

Davis. Pomp, what is the meaning of all this ringing? 

Pomp. De Secretary ob de War and de ladies wait to see you ; an de 
way dey frightened looks, Ise sartin de Yankees am cummin soon. 

Davis. Black prophet thou art, and black thy speech. {Aside.) He 
did say ere I received this my enemy would be a ruin. The magazine 
is tired? {Aloud.) Bid my good friends enter, quick. 

Pomp. Yes, Sah. {Aside.) Ha ha, de magazine is fired. I guess 
Massa Davis is gwine to blow us up. Exit. 

Enter Benjamin, Mrs. Davis, and other Ladies. 
.Davis. Welcome, dear Benjamin; thrice welcome, dear ladies. 

Mrs. Davis. How feels my noble husband now? 

Davis, Ah, much better since you have come. 

Mrs. Davis. Would I could bring peace and safety to our home. 
■ Davis. {Aside.) Where thou art, happiness doth bloom. 

Benjamin. Nor this vandal steel around us shone. But, Mr. Presi- 
dent, 0, that greater power still were thine. My heart is yours — linked 
together — through storm or sunshine we stand or fall. And my hon- 
ored Sir, the gulf now yawns before* us. The enemy are preparing for a 
last assault. Our soldiery — our brave veterans, with many laurels 
crowned — led by gallant Lee — the last proud prop of chivalry — have 
done all that men could do, and Gray must yield at last to Blue. But 
here the General comes. He for himself can speak. 

Enter Lee and Staff'. 

All. Welcome, brave General! Hope and defender of the South, 
welcome ! 

Lee. My friends, it is too late to speak of compliments, and yet I 
thank you from my heavy heart. The times are perilous. The city is 
doomed to be carried by fierce assault. Although our troops now stand 
like grim, fearful demons, contesting every trench and mound, our work.s 
are only a blackened ruin. Yet the watchful foe moves cautiously 
on our red brazen throats of death; and let us be prepared for that 
emergency, for I fear the pall of lowering night seals Richmond's fall. 

Mrs. Davis. My God! My God! Can this be true? 

Lee. Dear Madam, we of the South have poured out our precious 
blood as falls the seething torrent from the verge of roaring Niagara. 
We have battled for four dread years, but could not break the cordon 
drawn. Now dire fate speaks out, and we must bow submissive to her 
decree. 

Mi's. Davis. And must we stoop to this cruel humiliation? Must 
the foe overwhelm our C«,pitol? Then burst full heart, and eyes unused 
to tears pour forth your fountains fast, until my very soul flows out in 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 13 

streams for my country lost. My sunny South! My childhood's home! 
With all your sweet remembrances must we, can we, lose even all? 0, 
would I had not seen this hour, nor lived to love my native land. 

Swoons. 



SCENE IV. A Street— Troops Marching too and fro. 

Enter Soldiers, Conversing. 

1st Soldier. It is scarce past midnight, and yet these Yanks are up 
and swarming like bees. 

2d Sol. Yes, Jock, and I fear that before to-morrow night we shall 
feel the sting of that same vermin brood. 

3d Sol. Well, let them come ; we can but die. Then let us die like 
men. As for one, I had as soon die by Yankee's hands as in the gripe 
of grim starvation. 

1st Sol. And I, being a conscript, if I should make my choice, I'd 
die by neither. 

2d Sol. And a conscript I ; and if the city falls, what then ? 

1st Sol. Keep your eyes on my swift retreating heels, and follow 
them. Then, if luck is ours, good-bye, Johnny Gray backs, good-bye! 

2d Sol. You are a trump, and I will play that hand. 

3d Sol. Comrades, I could betray you, and then you know your fate. 
But no ; from childhood's days we've together been ; I can not say to you 
good luck, but good hearts, farewell. 

The bugle calls, and we must away, away. 
And close our ranks against the fierce affray. 
My lot is cast with thee, dear Southern cause. 
Come weal, come woe, I'll resist the Yankee laws. 

1st Sol. Adieu, adieu, my early valliant friend, ■ 

Dearer than the cause we both must now defend ; 
But you are pledged from freedom's choice, — 
I, alas ! am bound by a tyrant's force. 

Bugle sounds tlie Call. Exeunt. 

Enter Davis and Benjamin. 

Benjamin. Have you the treasure all collected? 
Davis. All is safe. 

Benj. Heavens ! Safe as a guard of soldiery can make it. I wish 
we were as safely gone.. But how is Mrs. Davis, and the ladies now ! 
Davis. Serene and calm. 



14 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 

Benj. Then haste, noble President, and let's be gone. 
When our bark is dancing on the seas, 
'Twill then be time to idly take our ease. 
Then the war steed may o'er our valleys prance, 
We'll bid adieu, and gaily sail for France. Exit. 

Davis. Ha, ha ! This double traitor — this Jewish cur— is even now 

happy with his treasure. And the illusion, the false hope of safety ! 

My coward heart, how can I yield and fly. 

Alarm guns heard. 

Hark ! Richmond, farewell ; this Sabbath day 

Lures me on, and I must haste away. 

Magnanimous foes won't insult my woe. 

And hunt down women and a fallen foe. 

Alarms. Exeunt. 

SCENE V. Defences around Richmond — Ti7ne, Night — Alarms and 
Siege Guns heard in the Distance. 
Enter Davis and Lee. 

Davis. Do you not hear the clang of arms, and the tramp of march- 
ing columns ? It is too true the enemy are preparing for to-morrow's as- 
sault. My brave General, what shall we do ? Shall we stand or fall, 
defending the intrenchments around our beleaguered Capitol ? 

Signal Rises. 

But see ! behold ! Where must I fly ; 'tis death to longer here remain. 

Alas ? these dungeon w^alls must topple down, and woe to him who 

stands beneath and dares the fatal fall. This demon, Grant — this 

butcherer of countless hordes — is grim and calm, toying with death as 

the chessman at his play. 0, none can stop his mad career. I foresee 

and utter now^ this prophecy, that this Grant will stand at the gates of 

Death, and seize old Time by his hoary locks and drag sweet success 

from out the bloody ja%vs of fate. 

Alarms. 

Lee. Aye, aye, it may be so. This is my counsel : The city lost, 
evacuate. With all speed haste across the Cumberland ; over the moun- 
tains fly, and form a junction with Johnston there. Fall upon Sherman, 
and, if victorious, cut his army up. Wiien war in our favor thus de- 
cides, among the fastnesses of Carolina and Virginia stand. Sound the 
alarm ; once more with frenzy fire the Southern heart ; then return and 
chastise in blood this cruel, relentless monster, Grant. Such is my 
plan. If successful, well ; if not, adieu, fond hopes, adieu ! All our 
toil during these weary years will have been in vain ; the blood of our 
best citizens will have been shed in vain : our self sacrifices will be held 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 15 



as crimes; the hoarse raven croak of death will be sounded o'er our 
abject heads; and remorseless, Titan-handed vengeance, will plunge us 
down deep into that grave which all the perils of a terrible war has thus 
far denied us. A Signal Gun heard. 

Hark ! That signal proclaims approaching day ; 
The jackal prowls and scents his mangled prey. 
We must prepare to break his gory jaw, 
Or tamely yield aud fill his hungry maw. 



-A.C1? TumiD. 

SCENE I. Scene, Camp before Richmond — Lincoln and Grant Seated 
before a Tent, Conversing. 

Lincoln. Well, General, will you make the assault to-morrow? 

Grant. To-morrow? That is Sunday. The day has a record for 
bloody deeds, and we will storm the town. 

Lin. How are the spirits of our officers and soldiery ? 

Grant. Fine with courage ; firm as Damascus steel. 

Lin. Brave men, worthy of their country and their sires, and worthy 
too the foe they now cope, withal. I would that their lives were not 
imperiled thus. 

Grant. Yes, yes, but we must do our duty. 

Lin. Duty true the hope of freedom and liberty for all time to come 
at every hazard must be sustained. And yet I loathe this flow of blood. 
Enter Messenger, in haste. 

Messenger. General Sheridan reports that his fleet scouts have seen 
columas of dust rise far in the rear of Richmond. He believes the 
enemy are retreating. 

Grant. Very well, Lieutenant. With my compliments to gallant 
Sheridan, you may now retire. 

Hands Orders. Messenger Retires. Grant Lights Cigar. 

Lincoln. {Rising.) My dear General, I bid you now, and much 
against my will, good-bye. May success on our armies rest until this 
foul Rebellion shall be quite crushed out. Of the fall of Richmond I 
shall wait to hear in your next dispatch. 

Grant. We will do all that men can do. 

Lincoln. And God will complete your work. I to Washington must 
haste. If we survive, I hope we may yet see our country restored to 
peace and prosperity, with no black dismembering evil festering in her 
vitals. 

Grant. Amen! Amen! 



16 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 

Lincoln. [Lingering. ) Brave Lieutenant, are there no means of stop- 
ping this effusion of blood? Again and again I have held the olive 
branch of peace — thrown out and offered pardon if our fierce brothers 
of the South would lay down their hostile arms and then back as quiet 
citizens return. 0, would to God they now would yield and stop this 
loss of life. O, war, dread, deceitful war, thy paths are rough and 
treacherous. When shall we learn to war no more? 

Grant. I know not when. Yet this I know, your Excellency: These 
Rebels, proud and fierce, must be whipped, to gain a peace. Men who 
will break all their oaths, and violate every principle of honor, too, by 
deceiving their own countrymen; putting to blush humanity in the 
treatment of their helpless prisoners ; crowding them in loathsome cells ; 
herding in pens of horror, exposed to all inclemency, starved, wantonly 
starved and shot by cruel and heartless guards without a cause ; men 
who would break up the best Government in the world, and through 
fraud and savage barbarity strive to hoist on its fragments a proud Aris- 
tocracy — with such, pleading will be vain. We must chastise them, 
conquer them, destroy them. If blood be spilt, they are held responsi- 
ble. If all the horrors of war to the last moment now extend, they 
will be held responsible. Responsibility must upon the heads of Rebel 
leaders fall. The end is drawing nigh. With Richmond must sink all 
hopes of this Confederacy. 

Lincoln. Trusting all to you and heaven, I bid you again adieu. 

Exeunt. 

Grant. He has gone — the greatest and best of modern times. A 
Cincinnatus of the West our great Lincoln is. At first I thought him 
made of weak and limber stuff; biit 'tis goodness, kindliness of heart 
that makes him sometimes wavering look ; it is no want of firmness in 
the right. 'Tis loathing of bloodshed and of pain — 0, unsuspecting 
greatness. He seems all unconscious of danger, too, and will not guard his 
precious life, though all engrossed in other's pains. 0, none can guard 
the shafts of fate; and who can guard 'gainst treachery? 

Enter an Adjutant. 

Adjutant. (Saluting.) General, have you any special orders for the 
night ? 

Grant. My Generals and corps commanders will assemble at to-mor- 
row's sunrise in council at j^on clump of trees. You will see them no- 
tified. 

Adj. I will. Salutes and Retires. 

Grant calls Orderly. Enter an Orderly, Saluting. 

Grant. Orderly, haste to General Sheridan, and tell him to double 
his vigilance and his guard. If the enemy escapes he must be captured. 
Be swift and speed for Sheridan. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene, 17 



Enter Generals Hancock and Meade. 

Grant. Generals, I am right glad to see you here, 

Hancock. [Saluting. ) I report my corps in readiness for the contest, 
and impatient for the hour the signal of final victory. 

Grant. Then, General, you feel sure of victory, 

Han. Most certainly. 

Grant. The enemy's lierce attack on our lines yesterday shows him 
to be most terribly in earnest, 

Meade. But he has been as fiercely met, and wildly driven back, 
and now my men are chafing for the last assault. 

Grant. To me the enemy's attack of yesterday meant something 
more than a desire to fight, I feel that it was done to cover up some 
great design, 

Meade. It might have been a spasm charge while looking for that 
"last deep ditch" for which the foe so long have sought. 

Han. And bravely filled the gory moat with mangled corses sadly 
torn, by shot and shell and bullet slain. Comrades, this war is not in 
vain. This reckless carnival of death is the harbinger of a future 
crowning the ages with renoM-n, heralding the grand heroic deeds of 
America's valorous sons, lending fire to genius and wings to the fair, 
fickle goddess, Fame. 

Grant. The Soiith are brave; and so the West; so the East, and 
so are they of Maine. Generals, this war will soon close. The enemy 
can hold out but little longer. The diversion of Sherman ; the fall of 
Atlanta, Charleston and Fort Fisher : the close pressing of Johnston up 
toward Raleigh ; the great success of stern Thomas in Western Tennes- 
see—crushing Hood's army in helj)less ruin — with Sheridan's quick 
victories in the Shenandoah, leave Lee in Richmond with his last Rebel 
hope ; and that is doomed to disaiDpointment soon. 

Meade. Our armies will quickly fulfill and bring about your 
prophecy. Exeunt Hancock Sind Meade. 

SCENE II. Grant Seated in a Grove of Trees, alone, Smoking — Time, 

Sunrise. 
Grant. Thou bright orb — light of earth and lamp that light'st the 
court of heaven — how warm and soft thy beams! Thou who witnessed 
the birth of man, and followedst him in all his wanderings in the ages 
gone, and hast beheld the sack and ruin of cities in every clime; thou 
flaming monarch of the skies, dost thou not feel a fierce and burning 
wrath when we of earth — so puny and so frail — throw aside the em- 
blems of peace, and with dripping hands, red as thy scorching ray, lift 
upon high instruments of death and fearful destruction, and make the 



18 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 

very blue vault reek with sulphurous fumes and deadly vapors? Thou 
lord of day, and guide that light'st the feet of men, I now invoke thee. 
And may the blood that will soon be shed sink as seed in this rebellious 
land, and bring from out the absorbent earth spirits more free, and valor 
to endow her future sons with a wondrous chivalry, as true to the Union 
then as now and in the past they have beeu bound to state sovereignty 
and the wicked bondage of men. 

Enter Council of War, all Salutimj. 

Meade. We are tardy, General, yet we greet you this bright, lovely 
morning. 

Grant. {Returning salute.) Generals, what is your counsel? Freely 

speak. 

Meade. Mine is, attack without delay, 

Hancock. And mine. 

Weitzel. And mine. 

Other Generals. And mine, etc. 

Grant, {Impatiently. ) Comrades and brave commanders, I now agree 
and counsel this extremity. This day decides the fate of foul rebellion, 
and treason, too. ' You have fought victoriously, battling for the Union 
by my side in a hundred worthy victories. One struggle more and t\)^ 
day is ours. Our batteries have wide breaches tore and made sad havoc 
with their works. Yon rising column of dismal smoke proclaims des- 
truction done. Our men are chafing for the fight; then lead your 
brave divisions on. This is my order for the day : Brave Hancock 
leads the left ; and you, true Weitzel, lead on the right ; and you, dear 
Meade, the centre take. Let all commanders bravely act — Sedgwick 
and Sumner emulate. Strike for the Union strong and true. Our 
brothers of the North and west look down, while patriot blood cries 
out to us, not for bloody vengeance but for justice done. This the day, 
and now the hour for victory. Generals, to the charge lead on. God 
and Liberty bless our arms, and Freedom be our battle cry. 

Exeunt. Bugle sounds. 
The Charge Sounded, with Alarms. 

SCENE III. A Fierce Attack, Etc. — Alarms — Another Part of the 
Field. Enter Black Union Soldiers, hearing Wounded Confederate, 
hearing Confederate Hag. 

Black Soldier. Dear Massa Tom, and is you killed ? 0, God, dat I 
should eber see my good young massa die. 

Confederate Soldier. {Faintly.) Caesar, do not expose your life for 
me. 

B. Sol. My life belongs to massa Lincon and de Union, dat is true ; 
but I must not let you die, child. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 19 

C. Sol. {Loolingatthejlag.) And yet I must— that horrid wound ; 
I can not live. My God, so young and must I die? 0, my sweet land, 
in this dread hour I doubt your cause! 0, would I had not against my 
country fought! But too late! too late! too late! {Hising partially, 
with difficult I/, and looking at the flag.) This is my last charge, old flag. 
Some other hand must unfurl thee to the breeze, if thou hast not, like 
my poor heart, received thy fatal wound to-day. O, I have borne thee 
over many fields, when the eagles of the Union went down. Now the 
stars and stripes in splendor shine, and dim this failing lustre of thine. 
{Kissing Flag. ) Old flag, farewell ! Caesar ! 

B. Sol. Yes, massa Tom. 

C. Sol. Tell my mother I loved her, dj'ing, better than ere before. 
Caesar, ( Whispers) — 

B. Sol. Yes, massa Tom. 

C. Sol. Come nearer — there. Tell my Mary — the blue eyed angel 
li\ang high up on the hill o'erlooking my once dear old home — 0, mine, 
alas, no more! Tell her I loved her, and was true to her through all my 
life. But hark ! {A shout.) What shout is that? {Rising partly.) 

B. Sol. Dat is de Lincon battle crj^ ob freedom. De city has been 
taken. Music, hand playing ^^ Battle Cry of Freedom." 

C. Sol. 0, God, take Thou my soul. 'Tis well to die this hour. 

Dies. 
B. Sol. He is dead ! My dear Massa, you always was good to me, 
and I loved you, too. And de sweet angel on de hill, dis will break her 
tender heart. 0, dis cruel war ! We black folks is not wuff all dis. 
Yet, thank God, massa Lincon makes us niggers free. 

SCENE IV. A Forrest Thunder Storm Raging — Davis Seated in a Tent 
— Negro Servant in Waiting — Time, Sunset. 

Davis. Lower storms and roll ye thunders, ye are emblems of my 
fortunes ! 0, fate, I feel thy heavy hand ; and can my destiny be just ? 

Pomp. (Aside.) Massa Davis, I dun no bout dat; but I knows you 
uns has bin hard on de cullud folks, shure. 

Enter Messenger, Saluting. 

Davis. Friend, what news? 

Messenger. Petersburg is lost. 

Davis. Then all is lost ! lost ! lost ! 

Enter second Messenger, Handing Letter, Etc. 

Davis. {Continuing.) We are undone; 'tis written in thy frightened 
looks. 

Pomp. {Aside.) Whoo-ah ! but de Yankees has sheered you dis 
time, 0, ha ! ha ! if dis nigger was to get skeered like dat he'd be a 
white one, shore. 



20 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



Messenger. General Lee is in full retreat, and fiercely fighting back 
the foe. From Eichmond here I swiftly came; and when I left the 
Yankee hordes, led on bv General Weitzel, were swarming o'er the 
smoking town, while flames were raging everywhere. 

Davis. Alas, fond hopes, our cause is lost! [Aside.) 0, grave, thou 
art my only rest ! 0, fame, thou art a living worm, to gnaw my name 
through coming time ! 

Pomp. [Aside.) Massa Davis, Ise bin your boy dis many j^ears, and 
you hasn't bused me; but dis here "Lost Cause" is not gwine to make 
dis here contraband weep, bress de Lord ! 

Davis. [To Messengers.) My faithful friends, you now need rest 
after your hard and desj^erate ride. Seek shelter, and refreshments, too, 
such as here my camp affords. This boy will attend you. f 

Exit Messengers. 

Enter Negro Servant. 

Davis. Boy ! . 

Servant. Here I is, massa Davis. 

Davis. Attend these friends, and see that they have fire and food, 
and then get you to bed. 

Pomp. Ise dun gwine to do it, massa Davis. [Retiring — aside.) De 
way de elments is here lookin Ifter dese gentlemen, I guess dey wish de 
Yankees had already cotched 'em. 

Davis. [Thunder Rolling.) Gods, behold my fallen fortunes! How 
abject a thing I now am. The black heavens frown and mock me. Then 
burst all ye gates of ruin ! I can not fly your vengeance poured. Ah, 
would my hand could execute the fiery promptings of my will. Ven- 
geance, revenge, ah happy thought! Thou should'st be mine. My 
brain feels hot, and all the demon of my soul springs up and cries out 
for sweet revenge. Why not? Is my country lost — nothing? Is fall- 
ing down from regal splendor naught ? Shades of departed greatness — 
noble Jackson; valiant Johnston; and thou, gallant Hill, I now in- 
voke thy aid for swift vengeance on this invading swarm. 0, smite this 
Jester of the North ; tear off the laurels he has won ; tread down the 
stars so brilliant now, and overthrow that haughty flag which flouts the 
South in her distress. I will not yield ! Ha, ha, if I fall — tossed to 
fell destruction down — yon monster I will drag with me! Ha ha, come 
fair, come foul, never will I yield, though dark frowns the day. Ven- 
geance may break this Northern clay. Bright stars, behold the tyrant 
fall, while smiles out fortune on us all. For thee we smite, dear sunny 
land. Nerve thou the arm the avenging hand ! 

Pomp. [Aside, from behind a tree.) Dar is a mighty sight ob trouble 
brewin for de white folks in dis ole Virginny country. And Ise off to 
bed now. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



21 



SCENE V. A Roadway, near Camp — Time, Night. 
Enter Pomp, with Bag, Etc. 

Pomp. Gosh-a-mighty, massa Davis, but Ise glad I heard dis here, senti- 
nel blowin' his horn. ( leaking cock from hag and laughing. ) Massa sez 
to me, Pomp, go to bed ! But who eber heard of a nigger goin to bed 
in dis here country when dese fellows was soundin ther bugles at night 
and we uns could reach ober dar and take em in. Golly but it's hard 
on you, old rooster. Guess dis chile has got to eat and morne dat we 
uns am running away from dem Yankees ; leastwise massa Davis is, and 
I specks I'll hab to run away from massa Davis. If I duz, Ise gwine 
up Norf, whar I can make sum money and be a man. Massa Davis, I 
knows its mean, but I can't help feeling good when I knows Ise gwine 
to be free for sartin. I knows we uns are runnin away, but dem Yan- 
keys will cotch us, shore. 0, look dar, de moon am risin ! de storm am 
blowed away. 0, my thigh, but ain't she purty ? I can't help it. 
(Putting down hag). I feel so good Ise gwine to sing a song — one we 
used to sing in de "Ole Cabin Home," down on de plantation fore de 
war. 

Sings Song. 



OLD KENTUCKY HOME. 



The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home, 

'Tis summer, the darkeys are gay, 
The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom, 

While the birds make music all the day. 
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor. 

All, merry, all happy and bright. 
By'n by hard times comes a knocking at the door, 

Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night. 

Chorus. Weep no more, my lady, oh ! weep no more to-day ! 
We will sing one song for the old Kentucky Home, 
For the old Kentucky Home, far away. 

They hunt no more for the possum and the coon 

On the meadow, the hill and the shore. 
They sing no more by tlie glimmer of the moon. 

On the bench by the old cabin door. 
The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart, 

With sorrow where all was delight ; 
The time has come when the darkeys have to part. 

Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night. 

Chorus. Weep no more my lady, oh ! weep no more to-day ! Etc. 

The head must bow and the back will have to bend, 

Wherever the darkey may go ; 
A few more days, and the trouble all will end 

In the field where the sugar-canes grow. 



22 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 

A few more days to tote the weary load, 

No matter, 'twill never be light, 
A few more days till we totter on the road, 

Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night. 

Chorus. Weep no more my lady, oh ! weep no more to-day ! Etc. 

Picks up hag and starts for camp. 
Enter Union Soldiers, following, etc, 

1st Sol. Halt there, Johnny ! 

Pomp. Don't shoot! Ise an honest nigger ; Ise no Reb. 

2d Sol. Where do you belong? 

Pomp. Ise Pomp, massa Davis' boy. 

3d Sol. What Davis? 

Pomp. 0, don't shoot ! Ise Massa Jeff Davis' boy ; but Ise an honest 
nigger, I is. 

All Sols. Hurrah ! etc. Waving caps. 

1st Sol. What have you got in that bag ? 

Pomp. O, don't shoot ! Dat is some 'freshments for massa Davis and 
de ladies. 

2d Sol. (Examining bag, etc. J W^hat is your name? (Aiming at 
Pomp. ) 

Pomp. Don't shoot ! My name is Pomp. I don't know bout de 
tother one, unless you calls me Davis. Ise been with massa Davis all 
my life. 

1st Sol. Here Pomp, you go to camp with us, and tell the Captain all 
about your master and where he is, or v/e will blow off the top of your 
head. 

Pomp. Gosh-a-mighty, don't put dat dar fortyfycation so close up to 
my head ; it might blow up ! 

2d Sol. Will you guide us to the Johnny Rebs? Will you do it on 
the square ? 

Pomp. Don't shoot, Ise dun took you right dar. De camp is right 
ober de hill yonder. 

1st Sol. Pomp, don't give any sign to let the Kebs know that the 
Yanks are here, or your a dead nigger. 

Pomp. Don't shoot ! Ise gwine to be a Yank when I goes up Norf. 

2d Sol. (Laughing. ) You are going to be a Yank, you black rascal ! 

Pomp. W^ell, I don't keer ; I aint no Johnny Peb. Ise gwine up 
Norf, and be a man and love de Union ; for j^ou uns has made us nig- 
gers free ; and de nigger's heart dat would not be true to de ole flag un- 
der dat 'sideration ought to beat in de bussom of a white Johnny Gray- 
back, so it ought. 

3d Sol. 0, you git out ! You are putting on style, you black cuss. 
Don't we see you have been stealing, and ain't you the boy of the old 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 23 

boss Johnny ? Now you want to play virtuous and be a lover of the 
Union. Get out, you black devil, and give us a rest ! Aiming. 

Pomp. Now fore de Lord, don't shoot ! Ise a good nigger, and I'll 
never take nuffin no more. 

1st Sol Well, Pomp, take up that bag and that old bugler, and 

quick time, march ! 

Exeunt. 



SCENE 1. . Washington Executive Mansion— Mr. Lincoln and Mrs. 
Lincoln seated in a room — Time, Evening. 

Lincoln. This is a day in which the world may well lift up their 
heads erect and shout with all a freeman's lungs for the peerless goddess 
Liberty. The curse of this dear land is gone ; and with it, civil war. 

Mrs. Lincoln. Happy day ! Carnage now is o'er. 

Lin. May the gaping wounds our country has received be healed up in 
peace, while we forget the bloody past. 

3l7's. L. Amen ! and spoken as my husband speaks, who is noble, 
just and true. 

Lin. My love, it is the language of my heart. 

Mrs. L. Yes, for always you are true to the best interests of our 
country. 

Lin. I try to be, God supporting me through every fierce extremity. 

Bell rings; 3Irs. L. retires. 
Enter Gen. Grant and Sec. Stanton. 

Lin. My good friends, I do welcome you most heartily this day ; and 
you, my brave commanding General, in behalf of our rejoicing country, 
I now congratulate. And through you the soldiery — brave, firm, tried 
and true — who at last, after many weary days have saved it. 

Grant. Thanks, your Excellency ! I feel, and always have so felt, 
our country was more than worthy the great and fearful sacrifice her 
sons so freely gave when they offered up their precious lives. 

Stanton. Ah, they have demonstrated to all the world that they did 
know how to die as well as how to live, still loving the Republic more 
than life. And in their death they honored it, and we now living, honor 
them. 

Lin. Be undisturbed and sweet the sleep that locks the patriot heart 
in death. And we, who now long vigils keep, will guard the grave where 
slumbereth each Roman of tliis latter age. Remembered they will be by 
man while freedom lives to charm the world ; but, though much the 
loyal dead have done, much yet remains for us to do. 



24 Assassination, or the Closing 8c£ne. 

Grant. Yes, dangers still are rife, and we must guard against foul 
treachery. Dire hate thrills through the Southern heart, and madness 
lurks in their despair. 'Tis well to guard 'gainst every harm till time 
lulls down the passing storm. 

Stanton. {To Lincoln.) Tread cautiously the slippery path where 
every breeze is filled with wrath ; where malice grim, and demon hate 
may seek thy life, assassinate. 0, do not think that cowardice mdkes 
me fear ; 'tis solicitude. 

Lin. I thank ye each for thy advice, and feel thou holdest dear my 
life. Our Secretary loved of State, who met with such sad accident, how 
rests he? Are his injuries of such severe, deep character, as to keep us 
from his counsels long ? 

Stanton. They are severe ; but still in him the thread of life is strong, 
I hope ; he much regrets that he must be cooped up while happiness so 
fills the heart of every loyal man ; and the Union resounds with song 
and loud rejoicing. 

Lin. Alas ! Dame Fortune's wheel may turn, you see ; and a coach 
overturned may be an end to mirthful jollity. [Re-enter Mrs. Lincoln.) 
But here comes better company. Enters, bowing to Lincoln. 

Mrs. L. I greet you back from victory, my dear General ; You I 
would now joyfully congratulate. Most worthy Stanton, both of you 1 
have the honor to greet to-day. 

Grant. Fair hostess, guardian over this our house of state, I do 
thank you ; I burthened am with compliments. 

Stanton. And I. 

Mrs. L. No more than your country feels to be merited by you. 

Gi-ant. Many thanks, from my very heart, fair lady. Such remem- 
brance is sweet ; but now swift time presses; I must be gone; for the North 
my destination is. The people expect us all to be at Ford's to-night to 
witness there "Our Country Cousin" played. I am compelled to stay 
much against my will away. I trust your presence ^^n\\ your Excellency 
and our fair hostess here more than be compensation fair for me. 

Lin. That you, I, and the people may all be pleased, we are pledged 
to sit in attendance there. 

Grant. In this I am gratified, that you will go among the people, 
for many tales float on the wind. The war, though it was fitly closed, 
(bright, polished steel will soon be dyed with quick corroding rust ; hap- 
pily may it ever rust, eating deep where once clung warm fraternal 
blood. ) Though now this jubilee has come, the air is thick with myster- 
ies of dark and dread conspiracy. 0, would that I could stay with you, 
or else could drive from out my heart this fear so undefinable. 

Stanton. No, do not move without a guard. Detail at once a trusty 
band to shield your life, and make secure security thus doubly sure. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 25 



Lin. I trust there is no pause for fear — kind thanks for your solici- 
tude. 

Grant. 0, may the glowing dawn of peace drive hence this cloud from 
recent storms ; and soon, 0, thirsty earth drink up, all traces of this 
cruel war. My friends, alas, I must be gone. For a few fleeting days, 
adieu ! 

Stanton. Business pressing, I hasten too, though reluctantly I take 
my leave. 

Lin. Where duty calls, there we must go. Farewell, Lieutenant, 
and should we not meet again this side the grave, in a better land O 
let us meet. 

Mrs. L. And I would bid you both farewell. 

Exit Grant and Stanton. 

SCENE 11. 

Lin. Hasten, lo\^e ; time is swiftly flying. 

Mrs. L. my dear husband, do not go ! Fearful shadows fill my 
heart with sad forebodings for to-night. 

Lin. Why, my love, why not ? Must we sit and nerveless faint by 
shadoAvs ruled ? 'Twould ill become our Saxon blood — 0, you know 
that I am pledged. 

Mrs. L. Shadows, evil monitors thou art ! Yet my heart says be- 
ware ! Wherefore, I know not ; yet, God, I feel a sense of horror 
there ! 

Lin. It is a groundless fear, conjured up by the overheated brain; in 
this hour of victory blest with much rejoicing — there is, alas, much 
cause for sadness, too. Dearly art thou won, victory, where kindred 
blood is spilt ! 

[Aside.) 0, fate, I feel my destiny fulfilled. In all the past an un- 
seen hand has led me through the storms of life ; and at last, since my 
work is done, shall I not trust in Thee, God ? Exit Lin. 

Mrs. Lin. (Alone.) Greatness, how dangers surround thee! The 
peaceful cottager dwells secure beneath his sheltering vine, blessed 
through his allotted days with love and joy, and dies content. But 
greatness, around thee cluster dangers in a thousand forms, and crowns 
with black death thy dizzy hights ! Lo the earthquake shakes the 
mediocre plain, but rends the towering rock ! 0, Nature, it is thy law ; 
I will, I must perforce, be content. 

Re-enter Lincoln. [Meeting. ) 

Cheer up. Many friends attend us to-night. Exit Mrs. L. 

Lincoln. [Alone.) To preserve my life and destroy this Eepublic, or 
the Union save by layina down my life, which is most precious to my 



26 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



heart ? I, the ruler of a free people, throw around me a potent shield of 
military power to safe iKjdge in my life, and be the foe of freedom and 
of man ; living the germ of future despotism V 0, away vile thought ! 
0, shall it be said in far distant lands, where I am as a patriot known, 
that I, who penned the Proclamation which set the bondman free, en- 
slaved my country to save my life ? Never ! though the assassin's knife 
stab my heart to-night, no, never ! The Executive who follows me shall 
have no such precedent— fatal to our liberties and a fortress for his tyr- 
anny. I shall live as I have lived— a freeman, a man from the peoj^le 
and of them raised from obscurity by the voice of many countrymen, I 
will not now a traitor grow, the hand that raised me' up betray. My 
native country, I for thee have lived ; and should I shrink if it were 
best that I should for thee die ? Great God ! if such a sacrifice could 
heal all dissention now, and be a sacred seal to peace, I would cry out, 
' ' Thy will be done. " Better it is to die by vile assassin hands, than as 
tyrant assassinate my countiy. Sweeter it is to die and leave a name 
from dishonor free, than to live the despot of America. 

I, at least, will unguarded go, 

Attended not by martial show ; 

He who breathes this western air 

Never can yield to thee, despair ! 

Quakest, heai't, with fear to-night ? 
/ Death is sweeter than tyrant might. 

Freedom the watchword and the cry, 

I could but ask for thee to die. 

Exeunt. 

SCENE III. A Room in Washington — Time, Night. 
Enter Assassins, examining iveavonff. 

1st Assassin. Now, welcome fate, it is the hour. 

^d Ass'n. Let death and horror brood over the land. pity, hide 
thy face, and mercy shut thine eyes to-night. 

1st Ass^n. A curse on the false Yankee heart. 

3d Ass'n. I wish they had but one and I could stab it. 

4th Ass'n. A toast. Death to the jester of the North. 

They Jill glasses. 

All. Hurrah ! death to the tyrant 1 Drink. 

1st Ass'n. Comrades, be cautious and be bold. The fierce Grant has 
northward gone. Heaven favors us ; be bold and strike home ; success 
shall crown our enterprise. 

Sd Ass'n. Then confusion, let thy reign begin. 

Sd Ass'n. And paralyze the abolition horde. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 27 

4th Ass'n. A toast.- They fill 

Oblivion to all universal freedom ; the great Caucasian is the true type 
of man, and his should be the ruling race. 
All. Hurrah, hurrah ! etc. 
Sd Ass'/i. Freedom to the white and slavery to the black, we say. 

A U drink. 
1st Ass'n. That's the true sentiment forever, the normal condition of 
man. Time speeds ; we must keep cool and brave. I know well the 
President's box ; the lot is mine to take his life ; smile, ye Gods ! He 
dies to-night. 
All. Speed the ball that strikes the tyrant's brain. They fill. 
1st Ass''n. You know your tasks. Let all be slain. Act like men and 
strike for revenge. We yet may from thralldom free the South in her 
extremity, and smite the serpent whose mightj^ coil is tightening round 
our childhood's home. 0, when the hydra head is low, his fangs at will 
can then be drawn. A curse on the North ! The lightning of our wrath 
shall blast and blight it. All Drink. 

All. A curse on the hand that falters ! 
1st Ass'n. The sands of time are ninning fast away, 

Night overbroods and shuts the court of day ; 
Darkness profound will hang a shield for thee. 
Strike neath its shade and set some spirit free ; 
If not to heaven it takes its last farewell, 
Speed then, with a curse, to the gates of hell. 

Assassins look to the weapons and Exeunt. 



SCENE I. Ford's Theatre— Band Playing ''Hall Columbia"— Presi- 
dent Lincoln and Family and Friends in Private Box. 

1st Assassin. {Stealthily Approaching President's Box — Aside.) That 
cursed song; I'll set it to a different tune! My bleeding country, for 
thee I smite! (Drawing Pistol, etc.) O, thou revolving engine of death, 
thou art unlike our changing earth, that rotates and in her revolutions 
fructihes and reproduces life ; but thou — thou glittering devil — thou 
turnest, and death is in thy motion. I touch thee, a flash, an echo, a 
groan and all is o'er. And then — 0, and then, the shades of the damned 
will stand with averted face and scorn me for the deed. thou tortur- 
ing fiend, thou demon of the soul ! Conscience, — why dost thou rear thy 
grimy form and mock me here ? Is he not my enemy ? 0, the anguish, 
the despairing cry that rolls in terror from Richmond to the Gulf. The 
South is draped in universal night, and this giant as a monster stands, 



28 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 



while his shadow chills us all to death. Death ! — thou gate to life or 
eternal pain ; thou burning hell that, like an eagle, tears my breast when 
the future as an ocean rolls before me. Looks into the Box. 

Will it be murder ? Assassination ? That crime belongs not to America. 
'Tis a thing for kings and despots, an Indian's revenge. No, uo, 'tis not 
for revenge. 

If the chain that guides the ship of state 

Can now be cut, its guidance left to fate, 

The storm that then will wildly rage 

May press the canvas, the crew engage, 

Until the South, now desolate, 

Can man her drifting ships of war, 

And like a shooting, falling star. 

Sweep the Yankees from the field. 

And graven victory on her conquering shield. 
'Tis our only hope. Smile, fair Goddess, you beckon me! 
Crimson fields beyond the Potomac plead with me for blood. Before 
the eternal throne I have sworn an oath to do the deed. And though 
he were my brother of the same birth, I would slay him. {A2J23roic1iing 
Box. ) How calm and peaceful with those loved ones clvistering there. 
Quick, quick, or mercy ixi&Y overthrow my dread resolve ! Courage, O 
heart ! (Looks in Box. ) Now all ye powers of fate, come, nerve thou 
my arm ! {Grasps firmly his weapon — Enters the box behind — Fires and 
shoots the President in the head. 

Assassin. (Leaping on the Stage.) Sic Semper Tyrannis! The South 
is avenged ; the monster is dead. Arise, and strike for liberty ! Down, 
dowTi, with the false Yankee horde ! Exeunt. 

Mrs. Lincoln. 0, horrors ! The President is slain ! 0, what fiendish 
hand could do it? Break now, poor heart; thy very life is crushed out 
here. 0, murdered ? Slain? 0, my God, draw out this vital spark, and 
let me die. Swoons. 

Citizens. Pursue — slay — kill the murderer ! 
Exit, following Assassin, the sound of horses' feet dying away in the 
distance. 

SCENE II. Room in Secretary Seivard's House — Seioard on Sick 
Bed — Fred. Seward in Attendance — Time, Night. 
A loud Ringing heard. Enter Servant. 

Servant. Sir, a man below wishes to be shown in. 
F7'ed. Seward. At this late hour? Tell him my father can not see 
e'en friends on urgent business now. 

Exit Servant. Noise Without. Enter Servant, Hastily. 
Servant. He won't be denied admittance. 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 29 



Second Assassin, Hushing in. 
2d Assassin. No, the hand of fate can not be stayed! Vengeance 
must be done. {Stahhiixj Mr. Seward.) Die, thou abettor to civil war 
and irrepressible slaughter, die ! Stabbing him again. 

Fred. Seivard. 0, father! 0, thou fiend, art thou mad? 

Rushing on Assassin. 
Ass'7i. Scion of a baneful tree, I'll draw the ruddy sap from thee ! 

Stabbing him, and Flying. 
Fred. S. Murder! father, treachery hath devised these horrid 
wounds. father, art thou slain? 

Seio. My dear son, no ! The steel made not so deep a wound in my 
weak flesh as in my soul. Art thou much hurt ? 
Fred. S. No, father ; my wounds are not severe. 
Sew. Thanks, heaven, for thy life ! 

0, my country, how dark the shadows fall 
When assassination spreads its dismal pall. 
I fear this dastardly assault on me 
Is only a scene in a tragedy. 

Enter Servants and. Attendants, Rushing in, Etc. 
0, fie, what work is here ? Slay ! Pursue ! Etc. Exit. 

Enter Messenger. 

A fearful sight ; drunk I am with horror to-night. 

Sew. {Partly Rising.) Speak out, man ! 

Mess. Then be prepared. A fearful tale, and all unwelcome unto 
thee. It is my painful lot to tell. The great Lincoln was shot to-night. 

Sew. And slain ? 

Mess. Sir, his \vound is mortal. 

Sew. I did feel the hand that smote me here stabbed the State, reach- 
ing for its life. Why could it not find out mine. 

Faints from loss of blood. 

Fred. Seio. Look ! Look ! A physician call ! 



SCENE III. An Old House near a Swawp in Flames — Soldiers in Blue 

Around. 

1st Soldier. Come forth ! Surrender ! 

Assassin. { Within.) I fear not death ; take thou that. Fires. 

2d Sol. Ha, hal You nuist improve your aim. 

1st Sol. Come forth, thou murderer, assassin, fiend ! 

Assassiii. Never will I yield. * 

Sd Sol. Then die, foul devil, die ! Fires. 



30 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 

Assassin. (Rushing forth. ) A curse on the North ! 0, death, is all 
thy vengeance poured out on me? 0, death, is this thy icy hand? la 
there none to pity me? Dies. 

As the flames die away, Spirits Rise and Sing: 

0, mortal man, yield not to hate, — - 
Drive hence the poison from thy heart ; 

Nor vengeful feelings satiate. 

Lest thou do learn, when all too late, 
That hope shall from thy soul depart. 

0, mortal man, judge not in pride 
The soul that yields in weakness' hour ; 

O, who can tell the surging tide 

Whose seething madness doth deride, 
And laugh to scorn all human power. 

Vain man, in all thy weakness hide 

The faults of . man in charity ; 
Nor drag from out the loathsome tide 
Foul crime, when justice can decide 

To leave it in obscurity. 

mortal, lost, learn thou the fats 

That God decrees shall follow crime; 
For he whose heart is obdurate, 
And mars sweet life or strikes the State, 

Must feel his fearful wrath sublime, 

SCENE IV. A Street in Washington — Citizens Meeting. 

1st Citizen. Good morning, neighbor, surelj^ you rise early. Lovest 
thou gin ? 

2d Cit. Unrefreshing, fitful sleep, tossed my weary head last night. 
A thirst unquenchable burns up all men — a thirst for blood. 

1st Cit. As war subsides, the heart becomes desolate in us all, and 
still these stormy times the country shake, and stir with fever the active 
blood, and make all men quake with fear. 

Enter Third Citizen. 

2d Cit. My friends, hast heard the news ? 

All. What wonder now. 

3d Cit. And can'st be said in Washington that such a fearful, horrid 
deed, could be known all o'er the world, to freeze every human 
heart where swift electric spaorks can fly and proclaim this crime aloud, 
and you not know your heavy loss. O ! ! O ! 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 31 

1st Cit. Well, speak out, aud fill our eager ears with this horrid 
now. 

3d Cit. The noble Lincoln by bloody hands was slain last night, 
while witnessing a play at Ford's. 

0, horrors ! 0, heavens ! 

1st Cit. Then blush with shame, America ! So foul a deed ne'er be- 
fore disgraced this land. 

2d Cit. Who ? Where is the murderer ? dead ? 

3d Cit. All the house did know him well, the infamous actor. Booth, 
is he who with pistol ball pierced that noble head ; then leaping on the 
stage, quickly rushed away, shouting, ^'Sic semper tyrannisr — old Vir- 
ginia's motto. 

All. heaven ! heaven ! 

Enter Fourth Citizen^ hastily. 

All. What now? 

Ist Cit. Have you heard the news ? The President is dead — mur- 
dered. 

4th Cit. [Interrupting.) All horrors here in this bloody land have made 
their home, emulating the fearful record of the past. I have more tales 
heard in this night than e'er before with frenzy stirred the blood of man. 
Seward, too, was assailed in his bed and stabbed quite near to death. 

All. 0, horror ! horror ! 

4th, Cit. To make complete this ti-agic niglit and fill the calendar of 
death, a^ telegram has been received giving the particulars of the end of 
Booth, the vile assassin, with« other conspirators taken. 

All. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 

1st Cit. Good news, indeed, hurrah ! For once foul blood was spilt 
where better men do die. 

Ji-th Cit. That infamy might be added to disgrace and a spectacle held 
up for all the world, "Old Jeff," who, with all his high vaunting, fled, 
by a squadron of Michigan horse has been captured. sbame — dis- 
guised as a woman, too ! The traitor was thus skulking away ! 

All. Shameful end to all this war. 

1st Cit. Fit episode to slavery. 

4th Cit. Let's away to the White House. Rumor says his wound is 
fatal, though not dead the good Lincoln is. 

1st Cit. Behold the flags are drooping low 

While all the land is wrapped in woe. 

A II. Away, away, to the White House away ! Exeunt. 



32 Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 

SCENE V, Room in the Presidenfs Mansion. Pres. Lincoln in bed — 
Mrs. L. and Family weeping around, etc. 

Enter Doctor. 
Doctor. [Aside.) All the balms of the East could not save his life ; 
'tis past the skill of mortal science. 

Enter Grant and Staff, meeting. 

Grant. Ah, sad meeting. Doctor, is there no hope ; and must he die ? 
Doctor. None, sir ; he now is near his last. Soon his bright spirit will 
be free. Alas ! How fearful and how sad. 

Enter Stanton. 

Stanton. Thank heaven, General, you have returned. I now stand 
wrapped in awe and sorrowing gaze on destiny. 

Grant. A fearful fate. Not all the blood which has been sj)ilt on 
many fields so touched the Nation's heart with grief. And 0, I grieve 
with those sad weeping mourners there. [Pointing to Mrs. L. and 
family. ) 

Mrs. Lincoln. [Rising.) for one word, one little word, one token 
more of love on earth. The President moans and dies. 

Break my heart ! death hath entered here. No grief can wake that 
breast to life. Kneeling. 

0, thou God, who inhabits the universe, and takes notice of each spar- 
row as it falls ; Thou, whose eye scans the globe from pole to pole, with 
impressible pigment photographing a world in action, deed and J;hought; 
while we can not understand why evil deeds mingle with the good, we 
know that Thou bccometh by promise the widow's guardian, the father 
of the fatherless. Spirit eternal, look down to-night on this unhappy 
land ! And pity not only me, but the weeping widows and orphans, 
too, that mourning faint all over the Union, now desolate, and cry to 
heaven, not for vengeance, but for peace^the glorious dawn of peace. 
0, Father of us all, let the blood — the blood of him I loved — be an atone- 
ment for all the crime of fraternal war. Rising. 

My children, you are orphans now. And we must look up and trust 
in Him, whose word as a bow spans the parting cloud, giving promise of 
sunshine when the storm is o'er. O, then the sun in all his majesty 
shall beaming shine, and warm our hearts from pine clad Maine to more 
genial shores that girt the tropic gulf, and thence o'er desert wastes to 
the western golden clime. 

Attendants. Dead ! Dead ! Alas ! Alas ! etc. 

Grant. Dire fate, that one so good and pure should thus be taken off 
his glory, shining as a brilliant star, fond beacon to guide the eye of 
hope wherever despotism frowned ! Alas, God, the puny mind of 
man can not fanthom the depths of thy dread mysteries. We only see 



Assassination, or the Closing Scene. 33 

the chastening of Thy hand in this, and trust in Thee. 0, let the death 
of him who sweetly shimbereth at last allay revengeful hate, and save to 
Thee our sinking State. Bloodshed o'er, let happy days bless the land 
where oft' the blaze of slaughter made it desolate. 

Stanton. 0, since the mighty King hath swallowed up immortality, 
and robbed us of all except the cold remains of him we loved, and left the 
land so dark in sorrow wrapped, we for a while must hide away our grief 
and bury decently our great, noble dead. 



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